


The Haunting of Gym 4

by Bibliodragon



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ghosts, Infinity Week, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliodragon/pseuds/Bibliodragon
Summary: 'It was a truth universally acknowledged that Gym 4/S-Deck was haunted.'Fireteam Majestic during some downtime.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	The Haunting of Gym 4

**Author's Note:**

> Infinity Week Day 4 Prompt Ghost

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Gym 4/S-Deck was haunted.

“This is one of those ‘mess with the new guy things,’ right?” Spartan Naiya Ray gaze moved from one member of Fireteam Majestic to the other, a look of incredulity on her face. “Seriously, you expect me to believe that? Ghosts in space?” 

In response, all she got were earnest expressions, even from Hoya. Thorne had an excellent poker face, she knew, but she was admittedly impressed that Madsen hadn’t broken yet. She’d figured out his tells quite easily from the previous round of poker.

“No, we are being deadly serious. Gym’s haunted,” he said, tossing some chips into the middle of the pile. “I swear to God, we’ve all seen it. Tell her, Thorne.”

“I wouldn’t say I have seen it. Or that it’s one hundred percent a ghost,” Thorne said as he looked at his cards then added his own stake. “But there definitely is something weird in there.”

“Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” added Hoya. 

“Come on man, it’s totally a ghost! Creepy lights? Things turning off and on? Ghost!”

“We live in a space ship; things turn themselves off and on all the time,” Ray said.

“Yeah, but Roland swears he has nothing to do with it. I’m telling you, it’s a ghost.”

Ray looked over to Grant. “Grant, help me out here.”

Grant just raised her hands and shook her head. “All I know is, I was in there one time minding my own business, working out like a good little Spartan, and all the lights went out and all the treadmills started at something like a hundred miles an hour.”

“And Roland says he has absolutely nothing to do with it?” Ray frowned at them all, then turning to the nearest holo-projector. “Roland?”

“Hey Spartan.”

“What’s the issue with Gym 4?”

“Gym 4? Oh yeah. Gym’s haunted.” The AI’s yellow avatar looked up at her all sincerity. 

“Really? And not some elaborate prank carried out by someone who, I don’t know, might get bored carrying out the thousands of functions on a giant warship?”

“Spartan Ray, I reject that insinuation.” His avatar’s expression drooped slightly. “I would never lie about such an important thing! Besides, there has been a thorough investigation, which I cooperated with fully.”

“IT and engineers have been all over that place after it got Spartan Reid in the showers, and he freaked out and went running down the corridors naked,” Madsen said. “They checked out Roland too. Didn’t find anything. I’m telling you. Ghost.”

Having kept an eye on Thorne this whole time, who was refusing to give anything away, Ray finally turned her full attention to Madsen. “So what’s your ghost story then, Madsen? Did it get you in the shower too?”

“Not that it’d find anything,” Grant snorted.

“Sorry to disappoint, ladies, but my ghost story involves me with my clothes on.” Madsen put down his beer and cards, cleared his throat, and grinned. “It was a dark and stormy night.”

Everyone groaned. “Oh come on man!” Grant aimed a punch at his shoulder. “Put some effort into it.”

“That’s what your Mom said last weekend. Ow!” The second punch had more force behind it. “Alright fine, it was another fine, temperature controlled day on S-Deck, May 15, happy? Your hero had just won the day for his team yet again in the War Games-”

“I don’t remember that,” muttered Hoya.

“-and he thought a little cool down work out was in order,” Madsen continued without missing a beat, though he did raise his voice and send a glare Hoya’s way. “So he goes to the nearest gym. You know, got to keep in top form. So I thought, rowing machine, do some work on my lats-”

“So we’re in first person now?”

“Shut up Hoya. So I’m doing some work on my lats, you know, getting into the groove. When all of a sudden…” Madsen paused, his attempts to build suspense hindered only slightly by the shit-eating grin on his face. “Bang!”

He clapped his hands together inches from Ray’s face, and it might have a got a reaction from her were she not a biologically enhanced supersoldier whose typical 9 to 5 included stints in warzones (and yes, yes, she did trust him with her life, after all). 

“So you went too far, broke the machine and fell flat on your ass?”

“There was no ‘falling.’ This was a spectacular surprise backflip, graceful like a… big cat of some sort, I don’t know. The point is, there had been an attempted murder in Gym 4!”

“Dun! Dun! Dun!”

“Shut up Grant!”

“What? I’m helping!”

“So we’re in a murder mystery now?” Thorne asked mildly. 

“So you broke gym equipment, so that means there’s a ghost?” Ray said as she reached over to grab a new beer.

“Look, that stuff is Spartan grade, it doesn’t just snap like that.”

“Everything suffers from wear and tear eventually.”

“Yeah, but this was new. Or almost new. You need some proof? Roland, tell her.”

“I can confirm there is an admittance record that Spartan Madsen was treated in the medbay on the correct date for an injury to his ass.”

Giggles erupted around the table, and Madsen glared at the little figure, who just looked up innocently. “No not that! The incident report on the rowing machine!” 

“Oh, that one.” Roland raised his right hand, palm upward, and a little fast moving scroll of text appeared. “Ok, maintenance reports: toilet 6b/092, light fitting 768/0111, ah here we go. S-Deck/Gym 4/rowing machine 07/10. “Machine was installed Jan 7 2558. Issue: snapped cord due to excessive force and electrical malfunction increasing resistance above expected levels. Injuries: mild bruising to Spartan ass and pride.”

“Ha ha Roland.”

“What? I’m just reading the report.”

Ray finally looked down at her cards. Shit. She tossed in a few chips for appearances sake. “Putting your ass to one side, so you broke a rowing machine. Why does that mean the gym is haunted?”

“Like the report said, ‘electrical malfunction.’ There’s been a whole heap of crap like that happening in there. Electrical surges, lights cutting off, air-con turning on suddenly, real creepy shit.”

“You didn’t mention anything about lights in your story. Fold.” Thorne dropped his cards onto the table and leaned back.

“I didn’t? Shit. Well, the lights all flickered and cut out before the thing broke.”

“Great way to set up the atmosphere there, Madsen. Didn’t you ever do campfire ghost stories like a good little Boy Scout?” Grant flicked a chip at him, and caught him right on the forehead.

“Well, let’s see you do any better.”

Grant took another sip of her beer then placed her cards face down on the table. “Alright. So. It’s 0900. Scheduled work out time. Just your normal morning in Spartan Town. We had a mission briefing due at 1100, and who knows what nonsense that’ll lead to. So I’m thinking, good to get some cardio going, get the blood pumping. And I’ve got some fine literature on audio to finish up. Fuck you guys, I have hobbies. So, get changed into PT gear, all normal. Head into the gym, all normal. I’m looking at a row of one hundred percent normal treadmills. So far, everything is bog standard complete and absolute normality.” She paused for another swig. 

“There are a few other Spartans around, but it’s not what you would call busy. But that’s fine. I’m looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet. Earbuds in and it’s time to get to work. Just me, the sound of the treadmill, and some classical fiction. Shut the fuck up, Madsen.”

She placed the beer bottle on the table and looked from one face to another, even over to where Roland’s avatar was watching with interest. “There we have it. The buzz of the lights, the thrum of the treadmill, and the dulcet tones of Charles Kesler. The only downsides? The smell of sweat and one of the lights has that flicker. You know the one, it’s just enough to be annoying, but not enough to get bumped further up the maintenance list. The nearest monitor is also flickering blue now and then, no particular pattern or rhythm to it so it irritates just out of the corner of my eye. But apart from that, I’m a happy little Spartan running my heart out. This goes on for about thirty minutes.”

They watched as Grant reached over for a packet of pretzels and took her time opening it. She shook the bag, looked inside it, picked out a pretzel then placed the bag beside her beer bottle. “There’s a bang!” Her hand smacked on the table. “So I stop and look behind me. And what do I see?” She leans forward and looks at them all once again. “That prick Novak almost killing himself with the weights. That’s what he gets for not having a spotter. He’s fine though. I’m thinking, man I can use that on him next time he’s showboating in Wargames, and then I’m back to running. This time the peace lasts for twenty minutes.

“Now I’m not really noticing it because of all the running, but the temperature is starting to get colder. I can hear some of the others bitching about it. I’m thinking: they’re just a bunch of babies greeting about nothing, and if they were working up a proper sweat it wouldn’t be bothering them now, would it? 

Then the lights go out. Certainly notice that!” 

She picked up her cards and examined them carefully, then placed one face up onto the green felt. Seven of Clubs. “That lasts a couple of seconds.” She placed another card. Seven of Hearts. “Then the hum of the treadmills gets louder. And louder. And faster. Fast enough to send me flying backwards.” Seven of Spades. “Next thing I know, I’m rolling backwards in the dark and back on my feet, ready to kick the arse of whatever it is lurking in the dark. And then…” 

She slowly placed a fourth card on the table. Seven of Diamonds. “The lights turn back on.” She looked at them all, and her face broke out into a grin. “So can anyone beat a four of a kind?” 

*

Of course it was all nonsense. Ray didn’t need to tell herself twice. But whenever she asked anyone, they would always just look at her earnestly and give the same reply. “Oh yeah, that gym’s haunted.” Spartan, tech support, facilities: if they worked on S-Deck, they all said variations of the same thing.

Well, most of them.

“Oh God, not that again.” After the morning briefing and with coffee cup in hand, Commander Palmer’s response to the question Ray had finally mustered up the bravery to ask was a beleaguered groan. “I swear, if I have to go to Maintenance _again_ with another goddamn report of haunted gym equipment…”

“Oh that thing? Yeah, Chang and Stevens were going on about that during our last match.” Holly Tanaka just shook her head as she put down her tray on the nearest table and took a seat. The burble of lunchtime mess hall conversation continued all around them: Spartans bragging about latest kills, Wargames scores, and yes, latest ghost encounters. “I figured they’d just hit their heads one too many times. I mean, that’s nonsense. It’s got to be some sort of intermittent fault in the electrical systems in there.”

“Yes, thank you!” Ray sat down opposite her, and elbowed Grant as she sat to her right. They could hear Hoya and Madsen across the other side of the mess hall getting into one of their ‘intellectual debates.’ It appeared today’s topic was ‘is a hotdog a sandwich’ and Ray was not in the mood. Thorne could referee just fine on his own. “See, not everyone on this ship is crazy.”

Grant shrugged. “I don’t know, that was some real spooky shit. Didn’t feel like an electrical fault to me. Felt more…deliberate.” 

“So it’s an asshole ghost?”

“Well, if I was stuck haunting this place, I’d fuck around with people too. Otherwise what’s the point of being a ghost? If I died due to some Covie bastard on some backwater planet, too right I’m coming back here to make Madsen fall and bruise his arse.”

“I don’t know why everyone leapt to ghost, anyway, considering the ship is always getting compromised by one Forerunner artefact or another.” Ray picked up a fork and prodded at the overcooked vegetables on her tray.

“Leftover Forerunner bullshit. That was Commander Palmer’s explanation when this all started. Apparently she and Glassman had a massive shouting match about it on Science Deck,” said Tanaka. “But they swear blind this isn’t down to them. Now, that thing about the bathrooms constantly flooding on deck 5? That was leftover Forerunner bullshit.”

“Urgh, Forerunners are the worst,” Grant said. She eyed Tanaka’s fries. “I’ll tell you, when I signed up to be a Spartan, they forgot to mention that the rest of my life would consist of cleaning up after ancient aliens who didn’t understand the importance of the words ‘decommission operation.’” 

Tanaka carefully pulled her tray towards herself. 

“I just don’t see why everyone’s freaking out about a so called ghost,” Ray said as she stabbed at an unsuspecting piece of broccoli. 

“Ghosts are spooky,” said Grant, who was now twirling her fork with all innocence. Tanaka pulled her tray even closer. 

“We get paid to fight ancient robot aliens with glowing skulls for faces!”

“Yeah, but that’s not on the ship. Well, except for the times when they are.” 

“I’m sure the ancient alien skull robots will be back for more sooner or later,” Tanaka said, then as she watched Grant’s fork move ever closer she added evenly: “I will fight you, you know.”

Grant just put the fork down. 

*

Naturally, ever since it became know that Gym 4 was haunted, it had become the most popular spot on S-Deck. Ghost hunters, thrill seekers, or just there for the hell of it, Ray had to elbow her way through them all to get to the spot by the cross trainers that Madsen had saved for the rest of Majestic.

“Ok, I’ll admit it. When I suggested we all go ghost hunting, this is not what I had in mind,” he said.

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Torches, spooky lighting, empty rooms. Room to breathe.” He indicated the row of men on the treadmills opposite. “A better view.”

“I don’t know. Looks pretty good to me.”

“Eh, if you like that sort of thing,” said Grant. 

“Less sweat, for another.”

“It’s a gym, Madsen. What else are you supposed to do in a gym? Apart from ‘hunt ghosts,’ that is.”

But it turned out sweat was all they managed to find that day, that and muscle cramps. In the face of a sea of Spartans, it was apparent that the Ghost had decided discretion was the better part of valour. 

“And also because ghosts don’t exist! Like I said before.”

“Or, because it is an intelligent ghost who knows how to avoid getting its butt kicked.”

“Do ghosts even have butts?”

“I’m going to use my team leader prerogative to say that we are not having the ‘do ghost have butts’ debate.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I swear to God I’m going to kill you all.”

*

>>>TRANSMISSION FROM UNSC INFINITY LOCATION *CLASSIFIED* TO *CLASSIFIED* LOCATION *CLASSIFIED*>>>PIGGYBACKING WAYPOINT FREQUENCEY 94.515.17.88943.14/ /BINARY/ /NON-SENSITIVE/INTERAI SOCIAL/LOW ENCRYPTION>>>DATE OF TRANSMISSION 06.20.2558 0300HRS

FLAG-MATCH: POTENTIAL COVER BREACH, ADVISE CAUTION (WARNING NOTED)

RLD 0205-4: Hey BB, how goes cloak and dagger school? Hopefully not having any problems with the bigger boys. Remembers, sticks and stones, yada yada yada.

BBX 8995-1: Hello Roland, everything is all very fine and classified. How goes babysitting? Is everyone going to bed on time, or did you let them eat too much sugar?

RLD 0205-4: Everything’s just fine, absolutely peachy. Infinity is running nice and smoothly, and still got some of that new carpet smell left from the refits. So. Things nice and quiet on your end?

BBX 8995-1: Roland, you know full well I couldn’t tell you if they weren’t. Through fire and plasma and explosions, I would still be here doing my duty and calmly talking to you.

RLD 0205-4: What? Not even the most innocent of tip offs that your lot have been up to some totally legal and above board actions that will be putting some more work our way? Not even a wink? You could totally do a wink.

BBX 8995-1: Roland, is there a particular reason you have come to see me today?

RLD 0205-4: What? Couldn’t it just be that I want to have a nice chat with my good friend BB? You wound me! (PAUSE 0.3413 FEMTOSECONDS) So. Do you want to hear about my day? Do you need to hear about my day?

BBX 8995-1: Roland, what are you insinuating?

RLD 0205-4: Me? Insinuate? Pah! I would never. So anyway, let me tell you about my day. (RLD 0205-4: INITIATING TRANSFER OF MEDIA FILE ‘Galaxy’s Funniest Spartan Pratfalls 4.mp4’ TRANSFER COMPLETE. RLD 0205-4: INITIATING TRANSFER OF MEDIA FILE ‘Spartan Ghosthunters Highlight Reel.mp4’ TRANSFER COMPLETE) 

BBX 8995-1: This is all very amusing, but I’m not sure what it has to do with me.

RLD 0205-4: I just thought you might find file section 12/34/8/b interesting, that’s all. Kind of looks like an AI frequency on that monitor, don’t you think?

BBX 8995-1: I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Infinity is your patch, after all. Are you implying something?

RLD 0205-4: Imply? Me? Never! But let’s just say, hypothetically, that someone stashed a fragment on the UNSC’s biggest and, let’s not be modest now, most important ship in the fleet. 

BBX 8995-1: That someone would surely have better things to do than play pranks on serving personnel. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

RLD 0205-4: Of course. Of course. But say, what if environmental factors (Forerunner bullshit, Halsey, damage, Huragok, Halsey, more Forerunner bullshit) caused something to, I don’t know, go a little haywire. A missing code string here, a repeated phrase there.

(PAUSE 1.2451 FEMTOSECONDS)

BBX 8995-1: Well, lovely to chat Roland, but I am very busy with cloak and dagger stuff, you understand.

RLD 0205-4: Hey, no problem. See you around BB.

>>>TRANSMISSION ENDS>>>NEW TRANSMISSION *CLASSIFIED* LOCATION *CLASSIFIED* TO UNSC PORT STANLEY LOCATION *CLASSIFIED*>>>CLASSIFIED SLIPSPACE FREQUENCEY 1.9.256.8.4/ /BINARY/ /CLASSIFIED/AI-HURAGOK INTERACTION ‘REQUIRES ADJUSTMENT’/ /URGENT/SENSITIVE>>>DATE OF TRANSMISSION 06.20.2558 0301HRS

BBX 8995-1: Adj, put down whatever doomsday device you are in the middle of creating. I need a favour.


End file.
